|
A Take of Two Worlds in Provence
Le Sambuc, France – As we were driving home from a recent
lunch at La Chassagnette – the only totally organic Michelin-starred
restaurant in France – my companion acclaimed: “That
meal would have been intolerable if the food hadn’t been so
interesting.”
It was my second visit to this lost-in-the-country spot just outside
of Arles, and my love-hate relationship was growing. I’d been
to dinner once before and the food was, yes, very interesting. But
when I was served raw lamb and was told “That’s the way
we eat it in France,” I almost lost control.
La Chassagnette has all the qualities that would make me the most
enthusiastic customer: A huge, raised organic garden, a bread oven
and giant spit for roasting, a country décor straight out
of the latest decorating magazine, and food you won’t find
anywhere else. For good and for bad.
As the two of us arrived that Friday for lunch, we were seated at
the edge of a table for 12 on the large, shaded terrace. The awkwardness
began there.
“Would you like a sangria,” the waiter asked. Sangria
in Provence? I don’t think so. We asked instead to see the
wine list and were told we’d have to see Sebastian. Since then
we refer to the lunch as Waiting for Sebastian.
La Chassagnette has no written menu. Instead they bring you food.
And bring and bring. Almost everything is aesthetically presented,
in canning jars or cast iron casseroles, with festive napkins wrapped
around the handles. We asked and asked for Sebastian but he was busy
chatting up a pair of gentlemen at the next table. We were on about
our fourth of many courses before he deemed to let us view the wine
list. When our wine finally arrived – a fine white Puech-Haut
from the Languedoc – Sebastian corrected my pronunciation of
the wine, enunciating the name five times to make sure I understood.
The parade of food began with a tapenade on toast; a collection
of sorry-looking radishes set in a canning jar; gloriously delicious
deep-fried beet chips; and a collection of battered and fried fare,
including zucchini, zucchini blossoms, and carrots. Perhaps the best
dish of the day was a giant, open-faced sandwich of thinly shaved
vegetables and herbs, with bright blue borage flowers, baby zucchini,
thinly sliced young artichokes, lots of fresh coriander leaves, cucumbers,
and olives.
Then came what we now call Moules Shapiro. As the waitress set a
giant bowl of steamed mussels before us, she said “Moules Chipiron,” but
my companion heard Shapiro. There were very few chipiron, or baby
squid, but the dish was a winner, with plump, steamed mussels teamed
up with strips of tasty chorizo sausage.
The small bowl of cubed tuna, peas, and fava beans made me think
of dishes I create as I am cleaning out the refrigerator, as did
the excellent cream of sardines topped with shavings of crisp, raw
cauliflower. A giant green salad, aggressively dressed with a tangy
vinaigrette made my head tingle. But when we found ourselves without
utensils and requested a knife and fork we were told, “Eat
it with your fingers.” And so went our day.
Only two days before we headed to Marseille for a celebratory bouillabaisse
lunch. And the experience at Michel, Brasserie des Catalans, could
not have been more of a contrast. Walking into the restaurant was
like walking into a time warp. The average age of the diners must
have been about 80, with plenty of well-coiffed matrons who clearly
knew their way around the place. Since 1946 Michel has hosted locals
and tourists alike, and by the looks of the fading snapshots lining
the walls, also it’s share of French celebrities.
Bouillabaisse is one of France’s most iconic dishes, and this
Mediterranean fish soup and Marseille are inseparable. It’s
a crude dish that probably began as a way for the city’s fishermen
to use up unsellable fish and fish scraps trapped in their nets.
Today it is a dish filled with ceremony, pomp and ritual.
At the Michelin-starred Chez Michel, that begins with a waiter parading
a platter of whole fish to your table for your approval. There were
those at our table who doubted the fish was fresh, their dull cloudy
eyes were the telltale. While early day bouillabaisse was probably
nothing more than fish boiled in sea water, today’s version
consists of a stock made of fish bones, enriched with onions, orange
peel, leeks, fennel, tomatoes, bay leaf, thyme, and saffron. (I am
told that historically in Provence every vegetable garden had a patch
of crocus bulbs for supplying each household with enough saffron
to prepare a proper bouillabaisse.) The mixture is boiled and passed
through a food mill to create a rather granular stock. Then the saffron,
potatoes, and fish fillets are cooked in that liquid. Chez Michel’s
version was fine, though we all commented that today our palates
are so accustomed to raw fish or fish that’s barely cooked,
we are a bit startled by the texture of fish that’s been boiled
to death. But the ritual is fine one, spreading spoonfuls of spicy
garlic sauce known as rouille onto toast rounds that are floated
in the golden broth, devouring slices of potato, and plenty of that
boiled fish, sipping chilled rose, and taking part in the mythic
feast.
La Chassagnette
13200 Le Sambuc
Telephone: 04 90 97 26 96
Closed all day Tuesday and Wednesday at lunch. 37 € lunch
menu, 60 € dinner menu.
Chez Michel
Brasserie des Catalans
6 rue Catalans
13007 Marseille
Telephone: 04 91 52 30 63
Open daily. From 45 to 75 € per person, including service
but not wine.
|
